


a man of few passions

by Poose, seven_hells (Poose)



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, F/M, M/M, POV Female Character, Short, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-27
Updated: 2012-06-27
Packaged: 2017-11-08 17:39:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/445765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Poose/pseuds/Poose, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Poose/pseuds/seven_hells
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the prompt: Stannis catches Melisandre and Jon in the act.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a man of few passions

Stannis would catch them eventually, she knew, the flames told her that much, but the date of this happening was unclear. It could be an hour hence, or a month, or, as it turned out, on the third night after the scene flickered before her.   
  
It took shape in much the same way it did when she watched it in her flames: the bastard boy commander was knelt between her thighs, her red skirts ruched around her waist. It was at the moment when she curled her leg around his neck and leaned against his mouth, red as sin and twice as hot, that Stannis appeared in the flesh.   
  
Lord Snow's dark eyes flew open when Stannis clapped him on the shoulder, and she felt her release ebbing from her.   
  
"What is the meaning of this?" Stannis asked. His voice was gruff, as she had known it would be. The boy looked back and forth between them, his lips opening and closing dumbly before his head tipped forward, as if he were ashamed. Stannis grabbed him by the collar and gave it a yank.   
  
"Well?" he repeated.   
  
Melissandre stood, her skirts rustling softly to the ground. Both men looked at her: the one on his knees, confused; the other clenching his jaw so hard it seemed as though his teeth would break.   
  
"We mean neither insult nor harm, Your Grace," she cooed, walking to stand behind him. Stannis stiffened as she pressed her breasts against his back, and his breath quickened as she slipped her hand down to cup him through his breeches.   
  
She whispered a hot suggestion against Stannis' ear, "Join us."   
  
"Stop it at once," he countered. His voice never wavered, and yet his body betrayed him, as it had a hundred times previously, with her, in their bed.   
  
"You must do I ask," she said, nodding down at the silent boy on the ground. "For it has already happened. It has been foretold by the Lord of Light."   
  
Stannis snorted with disdain, but she molded him to her will all the same. Like wax in her hands, these men, the both of them, as she clucked at Lord Snow to unlace his king, and watched from over his shoulder as he guided his cock to the boy's lips, still wet from his dutiful ministrations to her.   
  
She pressed a thumb beneath his jaw as his pace quickened; her other hand sinking into those thick black curls, pushing the men together. Lord Snow gave a little choked moan each time Stannis thrust in, a moan which grew louder when she twisted his hair in her fair hand.   
  
"Claim him," she whispered, as she felt her king draw close. Stannis did not understand what she meant, so she was the one who had to push Lord Snow away. His eager, suckling mouth sought Stannis even as the king spilled his seed across his parted lips, even more beautiful now than it had seemed in the firelight three nights ago.


End file.
